Chemical Defects
by ProngsPadfootMoonyCJC
Summary: Two ordinary girls must fix the time rip between the Sherlock universe and the real world but what if there are more secrets to be revealed that will come back to haunt them and can they do it without falling in love at the end? Or will they suffer from the chemical defect?


AN:

 _ProngsPadfootMoonyCJC:_ _Hello dear readers and welcome to another-_

 **PadfootProngsMoonyJCC:** **Sherlock fic - yes I interrupted**

 _ProngsPadfootMoonyCJC:_ _As I was saying I am writing this with my dear friend-_

 **PadfootProngsMoonyJCC:** **Bestest, most incrediblest best friend you could ever have**

 _ProngsPadfootMoonyCJC:_ _Will you be quiet I'm trying to introduce the story!_

 **PadfootProngsMoonyJCC:** **Unlikely**

 _ProngsPadfootMoonyCJC:_ _Anyway we hope you enjoy and we would just like to say all of the Sherlock characters are not owned by us only our Oc's._

 **PadfootProngsMoonyJCC:** **And we know that the whole Rachel and Jesse St James and Broadway thing kinda is Glee and not ours but oh well. I LIKE GLEE OKAY!**

 _ProngsPadfootMoonyCJC:_ _Okay I think they get it anyway-_

 **PadfootProngsMoonyJCC:** **Oh and please, please, please! Review, follow, favourite and all that jazz.**

 **PadfootProngsMoonyJCC:** **Me again! Sorry forgot to mention that, just in case you weren't already aware, there will be spoilers. Although you've come for a Sherlock fic so I guess there won't really be…**

 _ProngsPadfootMoonyCJC:_ _I think they get it. I would recommend seeing series 4 first though. Anyway on with the story._

 **PadfootProngsMoonyJCC:** **For real this time… I think...**

Ariana St James POV

I was sitting on a pearly white couch opposite the host of the biggest chat show in America, smiling a smile so wide I thought my jaw would be stuck this way permanently. It wasn't real though. It hadn't been since…

I looked at the crowd, still finding it surreal that there was people of all ages sat with t-shirts with my face on. I had been in the business my whole life, and my parents had been in it even before my birth. I felt just as nervous now as I did for my first interview. Baby steps. It's the first time I have been intentionally on camera for… Well for a while…

"So, Ariana, we've had you on the show before. But from what I've heard you are coming a completely different person this time." My fake smile dropped slightly, before I re-plastered it quickly. Show face Ariana! You know this!

"Yes. I… Well people change." I tried to change the subject. Please don't make me talk about this. Not straight away.

"You had a family bereavement I believe." Damn. Really? My smile fell completely now.

"Yes… My sister, umm, she died. About a month ago. Jumped off of a rooftop. I guess it's fitting really. If she… If she was going to go… She's always been a big fan of Sherlock… We both have. I just… Sorry." I turned away from the camera, trying to hide the big ugly tears falling down my cheeks. The interviewer didn't seem to know what to say. The amount of people he must have had on this show you'd think he would know how to react. Then again not everyone talked about how their sister committed suicide.

"I think we'll go to commercial now. Join us after the break where I'll be talking to Ariana St James about her newest single and her plans for the future. As well as a performance from the girl herself." The sound went to signal us being off the air and I ran off, into my father's waiting arms. He doesn't always come with me to interviews, but he knew I needed the support today.

"It'll be okay. Eventually. I promise. Show faces today though, yeah." He said softly in my ear, rocking me slightly as I had my arms wrapped around his middle, tears still streaming down my face. I pulled away and wiped my tears. Show face. I could break down later. Seeing the make-up girls hovering just behind my dad I nodded. They took this as their cue to pounce, as they tried to make me presentable in the two minutes they had before we were on air again.

Finishing with seconds to spare they pushed me onto the stage again, and my smile was again in position. Only 10 minutes and a musical number to go…

"Welcome back! I'm here with superstar Ariana St James who I believe has a new single coming out soon. What's it called Ariana?" He asked cheerfully, looking slightly apologetic as he looked at me. I took a breath. I can do this.

The interview finished with me singing and I left as quickly as I could, my dad by my side. Luckily for me I did the signing and meeting fans thing before the interview, I don't think I could do it now. I went to my parents house, before leaving fairly quickly. I needed some time to think, although that was always dangerous nowadays.

3rd person POV:

Ariana walked to a quiet home. No one shouting out, no one doing experiments and, believe it or not, no-one shooting the expensive walls. There was only the light tapping of little paws, which nearly broke Ariana's heart as the dog was her now departed sisters. It was a young Irish setter named Benedict as her sister always -did always- liked the actor not as much as Ariana but still liked him in a friendly way.

Ariana had always wondered why her sister jumped. There was no indication that she was unhappy or depressed. She had never been the happiest but she had always managed a smile for her sister and parents. Ariana had been obsessing over it ever since. One of the spare rooms had been converted into a study type area full of pictures, newspaper clippings. Anything that could give an idea to her behaviour. Ariana knew her sister would never leave her without an explanation, and while she got a brief 'I'm sorry, you were the best sister, I love you' there was no explanation, no reason. It just didn't make sense.

Some would call her crazy. Chasing a dead girl. But Ariana was smart. She knew something wasn't right, that there had to be more to the story. She was in the middle of a very important theory when-

Knock Knock Knock

She never got visitors, she was careful that no-one knew where she lived, unless they were here to see her sister but news in America travels fast so everyone knew she was dead. She went to the door slowly opening it only to find…

Mary POV:

The last thing I remember is was dying in my husband's warm embrace and apologising for all the wrong I have done in my life. Now I'm standing in the middle of a crowded street somewhere which is no longer london, hell I don't even know if I'm alive or not.

I could hear whispers on the street something about death (which I think I've had enough experience with for today). Then I saw this teary eyes woman making her way out of a big building and walking down the street. She looked… heartbroken. She couldn't have been older than 22 or 23. I know all too much about that so I decided to follow her, not in a stalkerish way just to make sure she was okay but before I could try and speak to her she pulled out her keys and walked into a huge building with a load of apartments. It looked expensive, as did the clothes she was wearing. She must be quite well off.

I walked up to the door. I didn't know if she was alone or not, but I thought that either way, I might be able to lend some comfort. I was alone, in a place I didn't know anyway so what's the harm. She wouldn't hurt me, at least in her current mental state I don't think she could. I entered the building. I was right. Definitely rich. It looked like one of those posh hotels with staff everywhere taking bags off of the residents and pressing buttons on lifts like they couldn't themselves. Compared to the rich I saw in the lobby, the girl I saw seemed poor, or at least she didn't flaunt it as much. I saw the girl, by a lift. She seemed to be waving one of the staff away. She gave him a look that said, 'just leave me alone'. He didn't seem to get it, so I walked away and deliberately engaged him in conversation. I didn't even pay attention to what I was saying as I led him away, I kept my eyes on this girl and quickly saw that she pressed the top floor button, she pressed her hand to a panel, and the lift door shut quickly and she went out of sight.

I quickly dismissed myself from the overly chatty staff member I had managed to engage and walked over to the lift. Now, the real question. How would I get up if she had to press her hand to it?

I remember an old trick I was taught where you need some powder and a flat surface. It just so happens that I had the right things in my bag. As the lift opened for me I pressed the top button then blew some powder onto the sensor and pressed a slim book against it and PING. The scan was accepted. I smirked. My spy days were helpful.

When I reached the floor I was in some kind of entrance hall, it was fairly small, but was clearly just there as an extra security feature. Just in case anyone like me got through the scanner system. I knocked on the door and heard slight shuffling on the other side. Sure enough the girl I had been watching opened the door. That sounded creepy.

Ariana POV

I opened the door to reveal… Amanda Abbington? What?

"Umm… Amanda? Amanda Abbington? Err… What are you doing here? And how did you get up here?" I was majorly confused. Did she know about my sister and how we were big fans?

"Who's Amanda? Amanda Abbington? Cool name. No. Mary Watson. I saw you come out of a big building, similar to this one actually. You looked upset… heartbroken… I knew that look only too well. I thought… maybe… I could help. You're so young. As for getting up here. My husbands an army doctor and my friend a freakily clever detective. I picked things up." I looked at her incredulously. I knew Amanda Abbington was a good actor but really? And if she did know about my sister this is a bit cruel - no, very cruel. I decided to play along.

"Well that or you were a spy, hey." She looked at me slightly panicked.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She said. I laughed a watery laugh, tears in my eyes again.

"Is this some kind of joke. Are you trying to make fun of me or even worse my...my…" I broke down into sobs of pain and sorrow only to be welcomed into a warm embrace by 'Mary' yet why am I starting to believe her? She must be lying right? I remembered what my sister had said ' _all lies hold some truth'._

No. There's no way she could be Mary Watson. As much as I wish Sherlock was real, I know it's not. At least not in this universe. I didn't know what to do. She reminded me of my mother. She was kind, and wasn't trying to rush me, even though I was a complete stranger sobbing into her shoulder. Oh… yeah. I pulled back.

"I'm sorry." I smiled slightly, apologetically.

"Don't be." She shrugged me off. "It's okay, just let it out. I'm guessing you haven't had a chance to do that yet. Since whatever happened, happened."

"Oh trust me, I have cried more tears than I thought possible over the last month-" I was interrupted by Benedict running to 'Mary' and jumping up at her, craving for attention.

"And who is this?" I blushed. If she was Amanda Abbington, this would get embarrassing.

"Benedict. My… my late sisters," I choked out, "dog. I guess he's mine now."

"I'm sorry." She stopped stroking Benedict and looked at me. Benedict just whined. "What was her name?"

"I'm sorry, where are my manners, please, come in." I ignored her question. I hadn't said her name since and I don't really want to. Its funny how one little work can cause so much heart ache. "Benedict, come on boy." I said to the daft dog looking longingly at 'Mary'. The fact she didn't even smile at the name made me think that there was truth in her being Mary.

"Tea?" I asked, hoping she wouldn't ask for coffee. It's what she normally had during her little jobs as a… no don't think about the past it brings to much pain.

"Please. Wait you have tea? You're American!" She seemed genuinely shocked. I laughed, a real laugh this time.

"I do drink coffee, but I'm fussy with it and prefer tea. My sister lived on the stuff though." I smiled weakly, smiling at the memory but grimacing at the same time.

"Who was your sister? Tell me about her." Damn that question again!

"I haven't said her name since it happened." I said honestly.

"You need to. You won't be able to move on until you do." She said kindly, understandingly.

"An… Ang…" I took a breath. It's a name. Not saying it won't change anything. "Angelica Skylar St James."


End file.
